Eric Doeringer’s homages to contemporary artists began with tiny copies of the efforts of Barbara Kruger, Christopher Wool, Eric Fischl, Damien Hirst and others that he sold from a table on Chelsea’s gallery Gold Coast, on West 24th Street. But several years ago, he graduated to more ambitious projects.

In his latest exhibition, Mr. Doeringer redoes Andy Warhol’s series of 1965 Campbell’s soup cans, working in silk-screen and following as closely as possible to Warhol’s revised palette, which abandoned the classic red and white cans on white of 1962. This means hot, smartly paired combinations, like orange and brown, green and purple, and green and tomato red that anoint Warhol as the Josef Albers of Pop art. The results are beautifully made and solid-looking. Similarly, Mr. Doeringer has redone Warhol’s Brillo boxes in silk-screen on wood.

But those in search of exact look-alikes, beware. These works are not copies as much as updates based on current company designs. The soup cans have flip tops. Brillo has toned down its classic red, blue and black on white packaging for chic, au naturel, black on cream.

For his news release, Mr. Doeringer uses a doctored copy of Arthur Danto’s 1964 essay asking why Warhol’s Brillo Box should be a work of art, when it is basically visually indistinguishable from the real thing (at least in Mr. Danto’s eyes). The real question may be how distinguishable a Doeringer soup can painting is from one of Warhol’s.

It would have been smarter if the gallery’s second show did not seem to shadow Mr. Doeringer’s as closely as it does. But Megan Whitmarsh puts copying to her own ends. Her enlarged fabric versions (iron-on appliqué and embroidery) of art magazine covers from the 1960s and ’70s aren’t copies at all. They are imagined, handmade revisions, which all feature female artists in both image and cover lines.

Based on well-known photographs, they include Lynda Benglis making one of her colored-resin pour pieces (Artform, November 1974) and Mierle Laderman Ukeles with a sanitation truck (New Art Examiner, May 1977). The images are all so cover-worthy that it takes a minute to realize that they never existed as such. Had they, Ms. Whitmarsh might be doing something else entirely.